words

I’m sitting in my pink swivel chair, wanting to write but not having anything to say, but knowing that I need the words.

That’s a strange opening line!

But still. Writing is healing for me. And there are so many things that I just don’t know how to deal with right now, so they have to come out into words, in some form or another. Nothing tragic – just pieces of life that I haven’t worked out yet.

Over the last week, a few friends have invited me into deeper parts of their lives and hearts. It has been so cool. And yet it’s also making me come to terms with brokenness in a new way; seeing it in their lives and mine and how horribly wrong things have gone in this world.

And then I’m still trying to learn what it means to come into my own, to be my own person. I wrote a personal essay about being the baby of the family, about being a sister. And the act of writing has made me realize so many things about myself, and have to deal with those things. For instance, coming to college was both traumatic and exhilerating for me. It was scary and wonderful to be on my own and not be in my beautiful older sister’s shadow. It was weird and a bit nerve-wracking to not have her there with me. It was tragic to leave my little sister behind (at three) and know how much this would hurt her and how little she’d understand about why I was leaving.

And understanding this and writing it has made me almost go through it all over again, trying to process what I couldn’t before.

And while I’m slowly starting to understand who I am because of and apart from my sisters, I still don’t know who I am as a writer, an artist. I look around and see everyone so much wiser, so much more developed and free than I. And I’m only a sophomore; I’m still learning; it’s okay that I’m not there yet.

But I wish I was.

This is a very strange post, I know. But it’s what happens when it’s after midnight, I’ve been listening to the gorgeous/melancholy songs that leave me with a beautiful ache, and I’ve got a lot of stuff bouncing around in my mind and my heart that I can’t figure out.

I think this means I should go to bed – so, I’m off to go snuggle under the blankets on this snowy March night!

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I often feel the same. I think I know who I am as a person, and I think I know who I would like to be, and then life happens and I’m not sure.

I know even less about myself as a writer. I thought I knew what I wanted to do, and then I started studying modernist prose and wondered if maybe a neo-modernist movement shouldn’t start up, in small measure, in my writing. {Please note the word small; let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.}

I think we find ourselves once we venture past the lines we’ve drawn, once we push ourselves out of our comfort zones. It’s not easy – nothing worthwhile is ever really easy. But as much as I can say this, for as little as I’ve sought experiences in which to stretch myself, I definitely think it’s worth it.

So true! But stretching myself is scary, and I often shrink away from it. But often it’s the only way to grow and discover…I wonder what we’ll be like in a few years? In our lives, in our writing? It’s kinda exciting to think about 🙂

It is, for sure! It’s encouraging, too, to see how I’ve branched as a writer since high school, or even since just last year. It’s amazing, actually, how much my writing and literary analysis has improved since I entered as a wee freshman.

It is good to process things…to write about them, to think about them, to realize things…It helps us grow.
As a collage student, I have found myself reflecting and processing on experiences of my growing up years as well. Somehow collage provides a new window to be able to see how experiences have shapped you (both good and bad), discover more about yourself, and learn from those things and move forward. It has been a challenging but good experience for myself, and I imagine for you as well. Processing through your own things, as well as gaining access into the brokeness of a friends heart, adds to the journey. I am glad you are able to write and process here, it is really encouraging to read and see someone else in the same spot. I process through journaling too. Keep journeying, it will only bring you further forward, and closer to your Father’s arms.